


(love is not) a victory march

by thisissirius



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, Biphobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 05:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10847670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: They’d fought, because of course they had, but it was too soon, Aaron’s head was still a mess and he couldn’t stop himself taking that step forward, couldn’t keep from balling his hands into fists, and Robert had flinched, waited for the hit.Expectedthe hit.





	(love is not) a victory march

**Author's Note:**

> written for an anon on tumblr. 
> 
> i hope you like <3

Aaron can pinpoint the exact moment it happens;

They're arguing, he doesn't even remember what started it, but their words are angry and sharp, aimed to hurt. They're back together and stronger than ever, but there are still things to iron out, still things their counselling has yet to put in order.

This is one of them;

Robert says something, nasty, cutting, the way he always does when he feels ashamed, guilty. Aaron replies, knows he drags up Rebecca because isn't that what you do in relationships? You bring up the things that hurt. He doesn't mean it, not really, but it's still raw, still hurts.

Robert's eyes darken, his mouth a thin line. "I've said sorry a thousand times for that, and if you can't forgive me properly-"

"You know I have," Aaron snaps, because he <has>, "but when I see you with a woman, you know how I feel about it!"

"I can't help that, Aaron! I can't stop myself being attracted to them!”

"Why not?" Aaron says, taking a step forward

and Robert takes a step back

and flinches

and Aaron's heart crashes to the floor.

 

 

 

The thing is, it’s happened before.

Not recently, but _after_. When Robert confessed, heart in his mouth, feelings written all over his face, and Aaron knew, had known since that day in the prison, because it’s what Robert _does_.

Still.

They’d fought, because of course they had, but it was too soon, Aaron’s head was still a mess and he couldn’t stop himself taking that step forward, couldn’t keep from balling his hands into fists, and Robert had flinched, waited for the hit.

_Expected_ the hit.

Maybe that’s the worst part, Aaron thinks.

 

 

 

Robert’s eyes widen, and he immediately closes the distance between them, hands up like he wants to touch, but Aaron can’t let him, backs up to the wall. “I’m sorry,” Robert says.

“What for?” Aaron asks, heart still thumping wildly in his chest. He’s the one who’s sorry, sorry for ever making Robert think he’d do that.

“I’m always giving you a reason to hit me,” Robert says, looking _guilty_.

Aaron feels sick, throat thick with emotion. Part of him wants to haul Robert in and shake him, make him see that _nobody_ deserves this, but he can’t stop picturing the look on Robert’s face, the flinch, the way he’d _waited_.

“I can’t,” Aaron says, watches Robert’s face crumple and god, god, how did they get here? “I’m sorry.”

 

 

 

“And you ran here?” Adam says, peering around the Woolpack as though Robert’s going to burst through the door at any second.

“Where else was I gonna go?” Aaron says, staring down at the half empty glass of beer. It’s not chasing away the nausea like he thought it would. “Rob’s probably at yours.”

Adam concedes with a nod of his head. “Probably.”

“He won’t come home,” Aaron thinks, decisively, because he wouldn’t.

Adam’s expression is incredulous. “Listen,” he says, tapping the table with his finger. “You realise Robert’s over there beating himself up over this right now, yeah?”

Aaron thinks of Robert’s face, the way he’d said, “I deserve it,” all the time, like it’s the only solution. The same way he’d said, “it’s all I’m worth,” expecting to be divorced rather than accepting Aaron’s hard-won forgiveness. “He’s not coming back after _that_.”

“He came back last time,” Adam points out, matter-of-fact.

“He shouldn’t,” Aaron presses. “What if I’d actually hit him?”

“Would ya?” Adam asks.

Aaron wants to smack him. “No, why would you even-“

“Robert _knows_ that,” Adam interrupts, wrapping his fingers around his glass. “What were you guys even fighting about?”

“What else?” Aaron mutters, taking another drink. He keeps his eyes on the table. “Some woman he’s working with. ‘Course we’re fighting, so I bring up Rebecca-“

Adam gives Aaron a knowing look. “Mate, listen, I’m not gonna sit here and claim to know what’s happening, but Rob loves ya. Whoever this woman is, he’s not even gonna look twice.”

“He did with _her_ ,” Aaron snaps, his chest tight.

Adam doesn’t say anything for a while, brow creased into a frown. “So is it Rebecca, or is it the fact that he’s bisexual?”

It’s not the question, it’s the _implication_.

_I’m bisexual, okay? That doesn’t mean I’m gonna cheat._

Except he had. He had cheated, but not because it was a woman. Because it was Rebecca, because he was hurting and he wanted Aaron to hurt, because when he self destructs, he uses the thing that’s hurt him the most.

Jack, Aaron thinks, nausea almost overwhelming in its intensity. Robert flinched because of _Jack_ , because they were talking about his bisexuality.

Fuck.

“I need to go.”

 

 

 

Vic opens the door, and Aaron’s expecting a punch, expecting her to lay into him.

Instead, she tugs him into a hug, tight and overwhelming. When she steps back, she looks uncomfortable, flicks her gaze back to the inside of the house. “He’s upstairs,” she says. “Aaron, he said-“

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says quickly, but Vic shakes her head.

“No, he said he deserves it and I-“

“It’s alright,” Aaron says, the words tasting like ash on his tongue. It’s not alright, not for any of them. “I know – I promise I’ll make him see.”

“Please,” Vic says, voice small. “I know you’d never hurt him, but I don’t understand why he won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Aaron hates Jack more viciously than he ever thought he could. “I promise ya, Vic, I’ll do everything I can.”

“I know,” Vic says, sounding more like a promise, and squeezes his arm before slipping out behind him.

 

 

 

Robert’s coming down the stairs when Aaron finally makes himself walk into the living room. His eyes are red, wide and round, and Aaron’s heart lurches. “Aaron.”

“Hey,” Aaron says, desperate for something to do with his hands. He settles for hanging onto the back of the sofa, dropping his eyes to the floor in front of Robert’s feet. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want ta see me.”

“I’m sorry,” Robert says again, quickly. “I didn’t mean-“

“Robert,” Aaron snaps, “Why are _you_ sorry?”

There’s a look on Robert’s face. Aaron’s seen it before, during his panic attack after his release, when he’d punched Robert. The look of someone who thinks they know the answer, but aren’t sure they want to admit it. “Because I know what I did hurt you. I’m trying.”

Aaron lets out a slow breath. It had been hard, finding forgiveness. It had taken a lot of soul searching out of the way of his mother and Paddy, a lot of Liv’s admissions about Robert’s state of mind while Aaron had been in prison, and a lot of thinking about himself, about just how much he loves Robert, wants him, _needs_ him. It had been hard, but part of him had already known what was going to happen.

This? This isn’t something Aaron knows at all.

Aaron walks around the sofa, sits on the edge. He looks at Robert pointedly, waits for his husband to sit on the other end of the couch, hands in his lap, eyes on the coffee table. “Look at me,” Aaron says, voice gently.

Robert does.

“Why do you deserve it?”

“Deserve what?” Robert says, playing dumb.

Aaron doesn’t dignify him with an answer, just waits him out.

“I just do,” Robert says slowly, frowning. “I know it makes you angry, that you deserve better and-“

“Robert,” Aaron says, as patiently as he can. It’s been difficult to turn his anger into something else, but counselling is more help than Aaron ever expected it to. He rubs his hands over his eyes, considers his next words carefully. “You know I’d never hurt you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Robert says immediately, and some of the tension bleeds out of Aaron, but he keeps hold of the rest, watches Robert’s face. “I know you’d never hit me, but I’m just – I know my sexuality gets to you.”

Aaron’s stomach clenches. He grits his teeth against the urge to curse himself. “I’m sorry I ever made you feel like that.”

Robert raises an eyebrow. “I’m a big boy.”

“You thought I’d hit you because you’re bi,” Aaron says, the words more clipped than he wants them to be. “I’m not your dad.”

Robert’s face shifts, anger, hurt, guilt, something else that Aaron can’t name. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Isn’t it?” Aaron says, hating himself.

“No,” Robert says, emphatically. “I cheated and I know-“

“Robert, this isn’t about Rebecca,” Aaron says, forcefully, with no room for argument. “You thought I’d hit you because your dad hit you, and because the last time we fought about your sexuality, I hurt Kasim badly enough I went to prison!”

There’s a long, tense silence.

“I remember,” Robert says, his voice hoarse. “Aaron.”

He doesn’t say anything else, fingers of one hand rubbing against the palm of his other.

“I need you to help me out here, Rob,” Aaron says, softly, reaching over hesitantly.

Robert willingly takes his hand, curls their fingers together. His eyes flick from the table to rest on their joined hands, something soft on his face. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes-“

“Let me finish.” Robert squeezes his hand. “I _think_ I don’t deserve you. I’m waiting for – I’m waiting for-“

Aaron rubs a thumb over the back of Robert’s hand, shifts closer on the sofa.

Robert takes a deep breath, drops his head forward until it’s pressed to Aaron’s shoulder. “I’m always waiting for you to leave, for you to realise you deserve so much better than me.”

Aaron doesn’t know what this has to do with anything.

“When you took me back after I, _after_ , I was afraid and when we fought, when you took a step forward I don’t know what happened, I thought _this is it_ and thought-“

Another silence.

Aaron closes his eyes, shifts his head so he can press a kiss to the crown of Robert’s head. “You thought of your dad?”

Robert’s grip on his hand is painful. They’re better at this confession thing, but it’s still hard for both of them. “He was right,” Robert says, sounding small. “If I wasn’t bisexual, I’d be alright.”

“No,” Aarons says immediately, lifting Robert’s head, both of his hands pressed to Robert’s face. “He was _wrong_. I’m wrong. If you weren’t bisexual, I’d never have found ya, alright?”

Robert nods, but there’s something in his eyes, something about the curve of his mouth that’s wrong.

Aaron wants to shake him. Instead, he brushes his thumb over Robert’s cheek. “I know I don’t understand it very well and that’s my fault, not yours. But I think – I think it would help ya to come with me on Tuesday, alright?”

“Why?” Robert asks, looking reluctant. Of course he knows what Aaron’s asking.

“I want to understand it, to understand how it makes you feel,” Aaron says, slowly, pressing their foreheads together. “And I think you need to talk someone about what’s going on up here.”

He’s not expecting Robert to agree, or to even promise to think about it. He’s tried before, waits for the inevitable, _just because it helps you, doesn’t mean it’ll help me_.

“Alright,” Robert says slowly, hands pressed to Aaron’s thighs.

Aaron’s heart feels too big for his chest. “We’ll sort this, alright? Me and you.”

“Alright,” Robert says again, this time like it matters.

“I love ya so much, Rob.”

“I love you too,” Robert says, easily, because even through it all, after everything, that’s what matters the most.

To _both_ of them.


End file.
